The Dark Lady
by daedsiluap
Summary: AU. This is the story of Voldemort's rise to power, his quest for immortality, and his potential downfall. And the woman at his side through it all.
1. Chapter 1

"I never thought I'd find you here," someone said behind me. The voice was deep and smooth, and above all things it was overwhelmingly condescending. _It couldn't be_ , I thought to myself. I turned around and looked into the face of none other than Tom Riddle Jr. for the first time in six years… and I couldn't help the grin that erupted on my face.

I wiped my hands on my apron more out of anxiousness than actually having to clean them off and studied the man before me for the briefest of seconds. The Tom Riddle Jr. I had known had grown into a man. He had the slightest hint of a five o'clock shadow on his face, and although Tom was always cocky, it seemed that the cockiness had been replaced with the cool confidence that comes with maturity. I knew I was beaming at him, but Tom was as stoic as ever. "Believe it or not, I actually enjoy being a barmaid. Strange, isn't it?"

"You were meant for more than that," he said very seriously. His eyes seemed to be piercing into my soul, and I could see how almost disappointed he was in me.

That only made me smile bigger. _Oh, Tom._ I shrugged, "I don't really look at it like that. It may be simple, but I have the power to make somebody's day. That means more to me than a paycheck or a title." Tom rolled his eyes at me, and it was like nothing had changed. Tom was always very formal and professional with everybody, so to have him roll his eyes at me was almost… intimate? It was as if I was his best friend again.

I fought a blush and cleared my throat, "I don't mean to be rude, but did you have a particular reason for coming by or did you simply have a craving for greasy bar food?"

"I am in need of a favor, Milagros."

I shook my head, "The last time you said those words-"

"I remember," he said cutting me off with a tone and expression that I couldn't read.

"How long will it take?"

He paused momentarily and then spoke slowly, "A while. I am not mistaking when I assume that you'll be closing soon, correct?"

I nodded. "Give me about twenty minutes. You can wait here," I said gesturing to a table.

"Thank you," he said taking a seat in a booth.

I returned to work, though I had a hard time focusing on the customers as my eyes kept darting to the booth where Tom was sitting quietly with a book. Tom taking the time to pay me a visit stirred up a plethora of emotions within me. I refused to think of what he could possibly want from me; it was far too nerve-racking, and I couldn't shake the bitterness that he only came to see me when he was in need of a favor. But Tom was here to see me, and the excitement made it a struggle to care all that much. I could be angry after I knew what it was about.

When the last customer finally left, I took off my apron, smoothed my dress, and walked toward the booth. Tom was sitting there waiting patiently. As I slid in across from him, his pupils dilated slightly and his face almost softened.

"What do you need, Tom?" I asked.

"No small talk, Milagros? I am impressed you keep customers with those manners," Tom mocked. I couldn't stop marveling at how much he had changed, and yet how little he had. He was as cold as ever, but he seemed to hide it less. I guess it's because he didn't need to anymore.

"I figure it's best to make this as quick and painless as possible. As happy as I may be to see an old friend, I can't say I feel very willing to do him any favors," I said a little harsher than intended, but Tom could handle it. I think that's what I miss most about him. I could say what I thought in the most honest way possible, and he wouldn't be offended in the slightest. It felt so nice to be completely honest with somebody.

"I seem to remember you being very willing, my old friend," Tom said dryly, making me blush. He noticed the effect of his words and the sides of his mouth turned upward.

"In this case, however, it would not be wise to, as you say, 'make this quick.' As much as I despise elaborate story-telling, I believe it to be necessary for you to do what I want," he paused for half a second to look at me severely, and I stared back with a mixture of anticipation and skepticism.

He looked at me very seriously and spoke in a low, deep voice, "My goal is to become immortal, Milagros. I will not die as my filthy mother died giving birth to me. For this to be at all plausible, it will require obtaining power beyond that which any other wizard has held. I am rising, as I'm sure you know."

I raised my eyebrows. Tom hardly ever spoke of his lineage, and I'm certain he never spoke of them so negatively to me. I could only nod.

"Unfortunately, this requires a certain amount of politics-"

"Politics that you know full well I don't agree with," I interrupted with a warning in my voice.

He shot me a glare. Its warning put my tone to shame.

"Politics that are ultimately irrelevant. They connect to me angry people, foolish people, who will do whatever I tell them in the name of these hollow ideas. One of these ideas is that of a pureblood, or that wizarding families are more powerful and worthy than muggleborn families. As a leader, it is important that I set an example for my lemmings. In addition, as the heir of Slytherin, it is imperative that I continue the line."

There was a pause. He held my gaze and apparently felt no obligation to say anything more. This was Tom's idea of elaborate story telling? There was something I was supposed to piece together.

"So you want to get married?" I guessed, trying to process it all.

"Yes."

I couldn't help but feel a hard slap of jealousy. It was completely irrational to be jealous of a man I hadn't seen in six years, but I couldn't deny it. He couldn't be with me in the past, and I was his best friend. He no doubt had found someone beautiful and cold as he is with what I'm sure was an impressive all-wizard family history.

"Merlin, Tom, just tell me what the favor is. Do you need a love potion?"

Tom snorted, "Milagros, I would not come all the way here for you to brew a simple love potion, and you and I both know that I have no need for one."

"Then what do you need?"

Tom smirked, "I see I have to spell it out for you."

"If you would be so kind," I said icily.

"You will be my wife."

My jaw dropped. My stomach rose into my throat. I couldn't breathe.

"Wh- _what?!_ " I said. It ended up sounding like a series of shocked noises instead of a single word, and I would be completely impressed if Tom even knew I was actually trying to say something.  
He just kept smirking cockily at me. After a couple of seconds, I decided that I should try to get a grip, and discuss this like a normal person. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my dress and took a deep breath.

"Tom, there are so many reasons-"

"I assumed as much, but I will refute each one. Begin."

"Well, first off, I have a job and a life outside of you," I said, my tired brain scrambling for reasons. I knew it was a bad idea, and I knew there were perfectly logical reasons behind it, but for the life of me, I could not piece them together. My career as a barmaid. That was what I chose to be upset about in this whole situation.

Tom took it seriously, though, and calmly replied, "By my side, you will have a job and duty that is worth something. Here, there is nothing for you."

I loved the way he said, 'by my side,' and I hated my brain for loving it, "Weren't we encouraged to do what we enjoy? Regardless of pay or importance? That's what I'm doing, Tom."

"If you're happy being a barmaid in a pub, you'll be happy anywhere."

"I can guarantee you that I won't be happy killing innocents, kissing your ass, and starting a war. That's where this is going, Tom. You realize that, right?"

"The ends justify the means."

I paused, "That's all you have to say for yourself?"

"Milagros, can you honestly say that you are shocked?" he said with his eyes tightening. If I was being honest, I was shocked that he had a reason, immortality, for doing what he did. I thought Tom was just being Tom for the sheer pleasure of being Tom.

"Look, even if I was comfortable endorsing and supporting your ideas, there are other issues," I said trying to stall.

"Address them."

I knew there were others, but couldn't think of any at the moment, so I went a different route, "Why me, Tom? Surely you are capable of finding some beautiful pureblood that supports your ideas to no end."

Tom looked exhausted, "It truly is tiring to repeat myself, Milagros. The politics are just politics. Nothing more. I do not wish to be with anyone that genuinely believes in my lies. It would be exhausting to spend my life with someone so dense, and while there are beautiful women who I could convince to marry me much more easily, you have favorable qualities. Your abilities in potions and other subjects would be fine traits in my heir."

"But there's a fundamental flaw here-"

"Oh, please enlighten me," Tom mocked.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "You say an example needs to be set, but no one knows my origins. I could be, and probably am, muggle-born."

"It's an easy enough solution. I tell my followers that I tracked your parents, and that you are not only pureblood, but of impressive lineage."

"What if they require proof?"  
"They won't."

"It seems like so much trouble, Tom."

"I want the best for Slytherin's heir. I won't settle for any less."

It's pathetic, but he won me over right there. "It will be difficult, Tom. I want you to know that. I'm not going to be an easy wife and it will be difficult for me to stand by and watch what you do, let alone endorse it, but I will try. If you are sure it is what you want."

"Would I be here if I wasn't certain?"

"I suppose not. I do have some conditions, however."

He glared at me, "You may make requests, not conditions."

"Very well, but if my _requests_ aren't met, I will refuse your proposal," I said putting my foot down. I wasn't going to be unhappily married. I wasn't.

He smirked, "I always get what I want, Milagros, but, if it eases the transition for you, make them known."

"I ask that you remain faithful, no matter how advantageous an affair might be to you," I said feeling ridiculous for having to add that second part.

"If we are including the basic implications of marriage, then I have conditions for you as well."

"I thought they were requests," I said rudely.

"For me, yes. For you, they are nonnegotiable standards," he said.

"This favor is decreasing rapidly in its appeal," I said causing an almost smile from Tom.

"Continue with your requests. Then I will tell you my expectations."

"I understand what you do and I won't try to stop you from doing it, but I would appreciate if you would understand that I want as little to do with it as possible. From what I gather, I will be nothing more than a figurehead for your pureblood family. I guess what I'm asking is, is it in my job description to kill or torture anyone?" I said feeling embarrassed and childish. Leave it to Tom Riddle to make me feel stupid for having an aversion to killing people.

"I cannot guarantee that you will not have to, however, I will make an effort to avoid it."

"Thank you," I said sincerely. Mostly I appreciated that he took me seriously and didn't point out the irony in the Dark Lord's wife being opposed to killing.

"I also ask that you don't physically injure me in any-"

"Agreed," he said, "Next request."

"Alright. I don't know what sort of company you keep, but I request that your followers refrain from physically harming me as well."

He smirked, "Do you really think they'd try to harm the Dark Lord's wife? Not one of them has the guts. Or the stupidity."

I smiled slightly, "Umm, that should do it, then. Oh, I also don't want to be locked in a tower or anything."

"Amusing, Milagros. However, I am pleasantly surprised. I initially believed you had materialistic requests."

"I'm always flattered by your high opinion of me," I said, rolling my eyes, "What are your expectations?"

"You will refer to me as 'My lord,'" he stated.

"Tom-" I started to protest.

"These aren't negotiable. You will appear by my side when asked. Any personal issues will be dealt with privately, and displays of affection will be strictly limited. I'm sure you will concur with the last two."

I decided to bring up the "My lord" issue at another time and simply nodded in agreement to the other conditions. Tom knew how much I hated scenes and discussion of private life in front of people. It was nothing more than a lack of self control and restraint in my eyes, and frankly, it was pathetic.

"No other man will touch you," he said so coldly that a shiver ran down my back, "I will not limit who you fraternize with. I do not believe in putting a leash on a woman, but that does not make me forgiving of extra marital involvement. You will be satisfied and will have no need for others. Is that unmistakably clear?"

"Of course," I said. I could feel the blush on my face. Jealous Tom was not someone I was familiar with. It was terrifying and, I am ashamed to say, exhilarating at the same time. Having him mention satisfying me on top of it caused butterflies in my stomach. It was pathetic. I was twenty-two years old and blushing like a school girl.

"Good. You will never undermine my authority, however much you may disagree. This includes sabotaging any action or order given. These are not overly difficult to adhere to, I trust?"

"Well, calling you 'My lord' will take some getting used to," I said, "but I think if we consider the absurdity of what we're about to do, it's overall a fairly reasonable set of expectations."

"Despite your sarcasm, I am pleased."  
"I'm glad, so what happens now?"

"Preparations are being made. There will be a ceremony shortly. Put in your two week notice here. Someone will pick you up, wear something nice." he said sliding out of the booth and putting on his coat and hat.

"You had it planned already?" I said, shuffling out after him.

"Of course," he said turning to leave.

"Wait!" I said stumbling out of the booth.

"Yes, Milagros?" he asked impatiently.

"You know I'm old fashioned. Can we do this properly?"

"I'm sorry, do what properly?" he said boredom clear in his voice. I gave him a hard look. His steely eyes relaxed slightly, and we had an immediate understanding. If he does this, there's no going back. For either of us. I held firm as the Dark Lord approached me with an unreadable expression on his face. He stopped about a foot in front of me and dropped down to one knee. He grabbed my hand, looked up at me in the eyes and said in a cold, confident voice, "Milagros Rodriguez, will you be my wife?"

It was something I knew I would cherish forever. Tom Riddle Jr. kneeling before me. I smiled, "I will. Thank you, Tom."

He got off the ground, grabbed me by the waist, pulled me to him, and kissed me roughly. It had been six years, but memories came rushing back. I could never forget the feel of his lips on mine, but experiencing them again made me realize something very important; the home I had been longing for wasn't the orphanage or Hogwarts, it was wherever this man was and had been all along. In retrospect, whenever I felt safe or like I belonged, Tom Riddle Jr. was always the common denominator. We were two outcasts, but we had each other through it all, even if it wasn't obvious. Although I'm certain that the kiss was to reestablish his dominance after kneeling before me, it erased whatever doubt I had from my mind about marrying Tom. He broke it off far too soon, and I nearly collapsed on the floor from the aftershock. Tom steadied me with one of those rare almost smiles on his face. After he was sure I wasn't going to fall over, he turned on his heel and left the pub without another word, shaking his head all the while.


	2. Chapter 2

That night, I didn't get much sleep. I lay awake in my bed in a little room above the pub, thinking of the decision I had just made. _Tom Riddle Jr. asked me to marry him,_ I kept thinking to myself, _and I agreed._ It seemed as if all the reasons I shouldn't marry Tom that I couldn't remember at the time came rushing at me as soon as I was alone. They haunted me, plaguing not only my every waking moment, but every second of my dreams in the brief minutes when I managed to get some sleep as well. _He is the most selfish man you have ever met,_ my conscious sneered at me, clearly displeased with the choice I had made. I rolled over and tugged at the blankets, _He is using you, and since you so foolishly agreed, he will continue using you for the rest of your life._ The truth of that statement shocked me to my core. It was like when you suddenly find the perfect statement to describe why you are crying, and you find some bitter sweetness in finding the root of the problem. I would spend the rest of my days being manipulated by Tom.

My feet were too hot, that was what was wrong. I kicked until my feet found their way out from under the bottom of the blanket. "There," I said out loud to myself and shut my eyes. About three seconds later it came back, _He didn't even offer you anything in return. You promised this man your life for a 'favor'._ I was suddenly very uncomfortable again. _After not seeing or hearing from him in_ six years _, Milly._ I gave up. I threw the covers off and climbed out of bed. I grabbed a glass off the bedside table and walked over to the sink in my closet of a bathroom. I let the water run for a few seconds before putting my glass under it and letting the steady stream fill it up. I turned off the water and took a sip while walking to the window that overlooked the dreary alleyway on the side of the pub. I stood there, looking at nothing in particular- just thinking.

I had never been a romantic. I had never needed anyone's love or support, and frankly, I was uncomfortable with the thought of having to provide that love or support to someone. Maybe that's why I could see myself married to Tom, because while I respected Tom as a person and found his company to be very interesting, I certainly did not love the man. Just the same, I was certain that he did not love me. Strangely enough, there was some comfort in that. There was no ambiguity, no doubts. We were walking into this marriage with no love, no promises- nothing but respect for the other person, and I considered that to be more than what most marriages had these days. It could work, I supposed.

I took another sip of water, and my brain went to our years at Hogwarts. Tom ran the school through a strange mixture of charm and intimidation. He had everyone wrapped around his finger. All of the girls wanted to be with him, and all the boys wanted to be him, yet everyone was afraid of him. Almost everyone, at least. I had seen Tom vulnerable too many times- whether it was seeing him be bullied for being different or watching him go down the difficult path to acceptance that his parents had either died or didn't want him- to be afraid of him. I knew his upbringing had made him colder. I knew in that particular orphanage, that you learned to deal with your own problems and trust no one. I knew because I wasn't immune to the consequences of growing up there either. Certain things should bother me, like the fact that he kills for a living or that he runs a cult, for Merlin's sake, but they don't. At least, not as much as they should.

In our seventh year of Hogwarts, Tom and I were in something of a romantic relationship, and it was surprisingly easy. Sure, there were a lot of secrets, but that never really bothered me either. Tom would disappear periodically and would talk about having "productive" and "unproductive" days that had absolutely nothing to do with school work, but I couldn't find it in me to care enough to ask what exactly he was up to. It was like he had a hobby that bored me to tears, and try as I might, I just couldn't pretend to be interested. That's the thing most people don't understand about Tom's rise to power; it was an awful amount of boring politics, making connections with strange and uninteresting people, and tiresome, three month long planning periods for very small and seemingly worthless missions.

Ultimately, the relationship between Tom and I ended simply because he was in too deep with the Death Eaters to lead a normal life and that was all I had wanted. It was an easy break up, I guess you could call it. Tom didn't want me holding him back and I didn't want him holding me down. The strange thing about it was that we never sat down and talked about it being over, as I understand most couples do. As we were leaving on graduation day, I looked at him seriously and said, "It's been a pleasure, Tom."

Something like relief washed over his features, ever so slightly, and he looked at me with equal seriousness, "It has, Milagros."

And that was it. There was no goodbye kiss in the rain or lingering feelings. It was all the closure I needed, and it seemed as if Tom felt the same. I would think of Tom every now and again, and sometimes I would miss having him around, but never enough to regret the decision to part ways. I sighed, and watched a stray cat run down the alley. Tom was right about one thing, I could be happy anywhere. I was happy here, I was happy at Hogwarts, and I would even consider myself happy at the orphanage. I could be happy with Tom. Comforted by this, I set my glass of water down and crawled into bed. I fell asleep with the sun nearing the horizon and the memory of Tom's kiss in the pub playing over and over behind my closed eyes.

Many nights of the next two weeks were just like the first- full of doubts and vacant of sleep. I put in my notice, telling the pub owner, Rolf, that estranged family had shown up and needed me to move out of country with them. I deemed it unwise to tell anyone that I was getting married to Lord Voldemort, surprisingly, and due to my lack of sleep, that was the best story I could come up with. If I was being honest, I was never a very good liar, regardless of the amount of sleep I got. That was always Tom's area of expertise.

The day my two weeks was up, I packed up all my clothes and my few belongings. Mostly they consisted of potion books, ingredients, cauldrons, and a few alchemy items that I had started dabbling in. I put on my nicest dress, a light purple knee length A-line with thin straps and dark blue trim. I was hoping today would be the day Tom would come to get me as otherwise I would have to rent out a place to sleep for the night, but just as I was wondering what my actions would be if he didn't show up, I heard a definite crack from below me. Nobody Apparates in this early in the morning. It had to be Tom.

I hurriedly grabbed my things and headed downstairs when I saw the silhouette of none other than Abraxus Malfoy talking to Rolf, and I couldn't decide if I was relieved or disappointed to see him instead of Tom. Then I remembered that Tom said he was sending someone and felt stupid for even thinking he'd be here.

"…yes, I am her… cousin," Abraxus's smooth voice rang in my ears as I walked over, carrying my things.

"Abraxus, it's been a while," I said, deciding it's best to spare Abraxus of any further interrogation from Rolf.

"Ah, hello, Milly," Abraxus said greeting me.

"Rolf, it has been lovely working for you, but I think my dear cousin has it from here," I said, shuffling my things to shake his hand.

"Sad ter see ya go, Milly, but family comes first. Tha's somethin' I understand," Rolf said, shaking my hand.

"Best o' luck to ya," he said. I thanked him as he turned and walked back toward his office.

"Is that truly what you are wearing to your wedding?" he asked looking down at my simple dress. It was pretty plain, but it hugged my curves perfectly. I was actually quite fond of it.

"It's all I had that was decent," I said with a bit of a smile, "Tom- I mean, the Dark Lord won't mind, though."

He cocked his head, "What makes you so sure?"

I wanted to inform him that if Tom had a problem with it, he could stuff it, but I decided to just leave it with a simple, "I suppose I don't."

"Well, nothing we can do about it now," he sighed and held out his hand. I took it and cringed as we Apparated. I had always hated that feeling, and Side-Along Apparition always made the anticipation so much worse. Next thing I knew, I was stumbling forward into a simple room with a desk. I looked to my right and saw Tom standing there looking incredibly handsome in dress robes with two other Death Eaters. In front of me, there was man behind the desk looking terrified. Obviously hearing the crack of the Apparition, Tom turned and said, "Ah, Miss Rodriguez is here to sign. I expect that once that is completed, everything will be taken care of?"

"Y-yes," the man sputtered, fumbling with his papers, "you two will be legally wed. Now, Miss Rodriguez, if I could just have you sign here."

"Of course," I said approaching the desk and quickly skimming the document. It was a basic marriage license, from what I could gather. I grabbed the pen, wrote 'Milagros', but then paused and turned to Tom.

"Do I sign Riddle or Rodriguez?" I asked him, stupidly.

"Rodriguez," he answered.

I finished and handed it back to him. He looked absolutely flustered and began to organize the paper work.

"Now, Miss Rodriguez," Tom said extending his arm, "we have a ceremony to attend."

"Thank you very much, sir," I said to the man and saw him pause for a second to shoot me a look of sheer pity. Confused, I took Tom's arm. I also didn't fail to notice that Tom still referred to me as 'Miss Rodriguez' in front of others, but I decided that this wasn't the time or place to discuss that.

Everything was happening so fast. I was legally married to Tom. Just like that. Till death do us part. And I had no time to reflect on that fact before we had to leave for a ceremony. I turned to see Tom gesture with his head and the two other Death Eaters Apparate. Half a second later, we were Apparating, too. I clenched my eyes shut as my stomach lurched. When it was over, I opened my eyes to find myself in a stone hallway that reminded me very much of Hogwarts. Two giant, elegant, and very intimidating doors stood to our left that I could only assume led to the ceremony.

It was sensory overload, and everything was completely overwhelming.

 _No, Milly, get those weak thoughts out of your head. Pull yourself together and get through this,_ my conscious scolded. Right. I looked skeptically at the doors. One thing at a time.

"My lord?" I asked almost hesitantly. It was my first time ever addressing him that way. It was foreign and strange, but he looked down at me completely unfazed. I guess he was used to being called that. "Just how large of a ceremony is this?"

"Small. Close followers and people that I want to think are close followers," he said with a hint of a smirk. Of course, this was a political stunt. That also meant this was my first test.

"Shall we?" he asked gesturing toward the doors.

I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders back. I looked up at Tom and nodded. Tom waved his wand to open the doors, and I put on my best fake, but professional, smile as we walked into the room together.


End file.
